The Stranger
by youarethegirl
Summary: Undecided ;; He walked behind me, clutching at his shaggy coat and trying not to freeze to death in the cold winter’s eve.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm broke so don't sue.

* * *

He walked behind me, clutching at his shaggy coat and trying not to freeze to death in the cold winter's eve. As a frequent visitor to the police station due to being mugged by a poor streetwalker who saw it fit to steal anyone of their valuables, or anything that might be sold, I thought I knew who was behind me. 

However, when I turned around to check if he was still following me, which he was, I saw a streak of black hair appear from under the loose scruffy hat he was wearing. I abruptly stopped walking. To my bewilderment, he didn't try to steal the valuable watch my wrist, so proudly showed off. This guy wasn't the thief who had robbed me so many countless times.

After turning almost four corners, and realizing that black-haired-guy was still a fish captured by my fishing rod, I turned around and almost bumped into him. He was so close I could see his beautiful green eyes so perfectly; I could draw them and not make a single mistake.

His eyes didn't have the homeless-abandoned-streetwalker look. From then on I knew that this guy was not homeless, or poor for that matter.

"What the hell's the matter with you, man? Why are you following me?" I asked him with a stern face.

At first, he stood there looking at me like an idiot for about a second, then he said, "I'm not!". A smile was playing across his lips. I stared at him with a bemused faced as my brows furrowed.

"I've been walking around the same building for a quarter of an hour," _I hope that pays off, seems like the diet I'm on is useless.. Ok focus, Black-haired-cutie interrogation._ "Surely you streetwalkers don't go jogging around the block at..." I glanced at my watch. "..Four in the morning!"

"Streetwalkers? Wait, four a.m.? already?" I grabbed his wrists, he wasn't lying, he didn't even try to pull away and he didn't have a watch on either wrist. Although on his left wrist he had a lighter section of skin in the shape of a watch. _Wait a second, lighter as in the rest of his skin is darker a.k.a. a tan? In Evanston? Where the only tans are those that had been applied by self-tanning lotion? This guy is definitely not homeless, or poor. He would not waste money on tanning lotion._

"Whereabouts are you from?" I asked.

"Um.. Dunno" he said with a surprised face, as if he had never thought about that fact before. _Ok.. I've got myself a joker._

"As if! Come on," I said, "Stop messing me about, it's late, and I wanna go home."

"Oh, shit! I don't know my name, shit!" he said, panicking. "Who am I? Where am I? Who are you? Do you know me? Hell, what year is it? How old am I? Oh, man!"

Now, I play poker with my mates, who are poker-masters, as am I, seven times a week, and I can spot a bluff a mile away. Black-haired-guy was not bluffing.

I had also seen enough documentaries to know that Black-haired-guy had amnesia.

"Ok, dude, if this is some sort of joke, you're gonna pay for it big-time." I said calmly as I took out my cellphone out of my brand new handbag. "Hey, hey," I tried to distract him from climbing over the Jones' white-picket fence. I grabbed at his oversized jacket and pulled him down the fence as a mother would do to her energetic children.

He hit the tarmac–paved street hard. "Ow! Hey, just because I don't remember anything about myself doesn't mean that I don't have feelings! And that hurt!" he said as he rubbed his back with both his hands.

"Yeah, and hopefully you'll also have some common sense. Now, come on, and don't make any noise. The people in this place are like weasels, they hear one sound, and they're behind the curtains at first glance. There's Mrs. Parkinson, she's a lazy old bat!" I started walking towards my direction. A few seconds later I heard shuffling feet behind me.

"Um, excuse me where are you going?" black-haired-guy asked as he tried to keep up with my fast pace.

"Um, _we_ are going back to my place. It's just up the road." I said.

"Can I ask a couple of questions?" Black-haired-guy asked.

"Sure, but first we need to give you a name." I said.

"Ok. How about Alex? Or Eric? Or.." he began but he didn't have time to finish, cause I stopped him.

I stopped walking and put my hand in front of his chest. "Whoa, there tiger! I said name as in singular, as in one name not a million."

"Ok Miss. Impatient, What about.." he said with a confidence in his voice that I hadn't noticed before. "Hey, what's this?" he said holding a piece of paper in his hands. "Your name is Harry." He read.

* * *

If you're down here then chances are you've read it, so please review. It will only take a couple of minutes. 


End file.
